


better than ever

by voksen



Series: WKverse [66]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-22
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:29:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been six months since they scattered on Crawford's say-so...</p><p>prompt deleted agaiiin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better than ever

Six months.

It's been _six months_ since they scattered on Crawford's say-so, leaving everything behind; leaving each other. Maybe Nagi could figure a trace through the electronic-and-paper maze of their accounts, maybe Crawford could See where they are, but as for Schuldig - they're out of the city, out of the country, out of his range - they're gone.

Schuldig's started to think maybe they're dead, maybe he's alone for good, which is deeply fucked up and something he absolutely does not want to think about, let alone deal with, when Crawford shows up without warning.

He lets himself into Schuldig's tatty hotel room; Schuldig has his gun in hand and finger on the trigger before he wakes up enough to recognize him, and when he does all he can say is "I nearly shot you, you _fuck_ ," and then the gun drops from his nerveless fingers onto the rumpled bedspread.

Crawford looks thinner than Schuldig remembers, though it could be the cut of his suit - a little cheaper, tailored closer - or the way his hair, longer and ungelled, falls around his face. "You didn't," he said, and fuck, but Schuldig has even missed hating that sort of thing.

"You ever hear of a telephone," Schuldig mutters, but he's getting out of bed, crossing to the door, and neither of them wants an answer to that, anyway.

It's gratifying to see that Crawford's missed him - at least in that he wants Schuldig just as bad as Schuldig wants him; his body is hard and ready, his mind full of desire, long-banked and hot. Still, six months is a fuck of a long time to go without a word, and Schuldig hangs onto his irritation with grim determination, determined not to let Crawford slack off on what Schuldig's owed just because they both want to get laid.

But then Crawford drops to his knees in front of him and Schuldig forgets everything somewhere between the first slick of tongue over his cock and the way Crawford swallows around him as he comes, hungry, easy, perfect. Better than ever.


End file.
